


Always, Forever

by SaltyServal



Series: SakuAtsu Angst Week 2021 [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Atsumu stop overworking yourself, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Passing Out, Protective Sakusa Kiyoomi, Sad Miya Atsumu, SakuAtsu Angst Week 2021, Wow this isn’t as angsty, burnout/overworking, ur gonna give sakusa a heart attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 19:01:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30060081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltyServal/pseuds/SaltyServal
Summary: “I need you to lie to me, and tell me that I’m a good person.” Atsumu begged suddenly, cutting off Kiyoomi. He clutched Kiyoomi’s arm tightly, his trembling increasing by tenfold. “That I’m not a failure. That I’m worth something, that I’m valuable. That people like me, that I’m okay—““Atsumu.” Kiyoomi cut him off, horror bleeding into his voice. “What— where is this all coming from?” Atsumu blinked at him, his mouth dry.ORAtsumu struggles to accept that he doesn’t have to be the best all the time.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: SakuAtsu Angst Week 2021 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2205345
Comments: 22
Kudos: 210
Collections: SakuAtsuAngstWeek





	Always, Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Day Five: Lie to Me

Miya Atsumu, contrary to popular belief, was anxious. 

He wore the shell of not caring, of impartiality. A shield of egotistical words and actions. It kept him safe, he supposed. He distanced himself from people, despite his extroverted tendencies. 

There was no rhyme or reason to it. Perhaps it was an echo of middle and high school, when his temper got him in trouble with his peers. The ostracization so common he just expected it at this point. He didn’t even think he could count on his own brother to keep hanging out with him. 

It felt as if every time he befriended someone, he ended up burned in the end. It wasn’t worth all the hurt he got in return. 

Atsumu tried to tell himself he wasn’t lonely. That everything was okay. He had friends; or at least, mutuals. He had people who cared about him. He had a whole team to surround himself with, a family in a way. They all had fun, they all had laughs, they all made memories. 

But they would never choose him if they didn’t absolutely  _ have  _ to. It would always be him who was option b. Atsumu was numb to it. He didn’t care anymore. This kind of bullshit went back to high school, after all. He shouldn’t give a damn. 

Except when he did, which was… daily, if he was being honest. Atsumu always had to initiate group activities. If he didn’t ask, he would never be invited. It didn’t sting unless he thought too hard about it. He could ignore it. 

_ He couldn’t ignore it. Every second he was reminded that he was not good enough, that he was and never would be the first choice for anyone.  _

At least he found a bit of himself in Sakusa Kiyoomi. Sakusa Kiyoomi, who did try and put him first. No matter how much Atsumu resisted, the spiker managed to capture his heart, and send him spiralling into love. 

It was strange, falling in love with him. By all accounts, neither of them should have gravitated toward each other at all. Atsumu remembered their high school days, full of petty cat fights and challenges thrown at each other out of both spite and admiration.

And yet he still felt he wasn’t enough. He was fully prepared for the day when Kiyoomi turned to him and said “actually, you’re not good enough for me” and walked away. Atsumu didn’t know if he’d be mad or not. He supposed it would sting, but he was used to being left alone.

He was a pretty big failure, anyway. 

Some would argue that was false, that he had made it big in the volleyball world, the starting setter of a division one league team. Atsumu had someone who loved him. His brother was still around.

But he wasn’t enough. He still was scorned and ridiculed; he wasn’t oblivious. He heard every whisper, every little thing they said about him. Atsumu was never able to shake off the stigma that followed him from high school. No matter how hard he tried to show that he changed, the world still viewed him as some snotty, rude brat.

Atsumu managed to suppress whatever feelings he had on the matter deep down. He managed to ignore his traitorous mind, whispering that everything they said about him was true. 

That he was unloveable. That he was selfish. That he was worthless, save for his skill in volleyball. They still ridiculed him, still scorned him either way.

Atsumu lived on. 

_ They were just words,  _ he told himself.  _ They mean nothing.  _ Atsumu could continue throughout his day, acting as peppy as he wanted. They had no weight over him, they had no power over him.

He was lying. 

He didn’t know when it got really bad. When slipped into a state of depression. Waking up was hard, and he floated through his days. When Kiyoomi asked what was wrong, he brushed it off. 

Even wrapped in his lover’s embrace, he still couldn’t find it in him to admit the secrets he held in his heart. He couldn’t admit to the fear and weakness he had. Insecurity. Weak. All words that could describe him. 

He couldn’t even hold onto the title of number one setter. That was ripped away by Kageyama Tobio. Atsumu tried not to be bitter. He tried not to hold onto a small, pointless grudge. But it was still there, tugging at the back of his mind. 

Atsumu had no reason to be upset. He had no reason to be unhappy. But he was. 

Miya Atsumu wanted to be joyful, but the weight of the world continued to drag him down. 

Atsumu leaned against the wall, wiping sweat off of his brow. The game has been grueling; and it had all been for naught. They lost, albeit closely. It still stung, as he felt responsible for the failure. He clenched his fists slightly.

“Damnit.” He swore out loud, shaking his head once. He barked out a dry laugh, rubbing his eyes. If only Atsumu had set to Bokuto. Maybe they would’ve won. Or if he had sent it to Meian when they first pulled ahead. 

“I don’t understand what makes Miya all that great.” Atsumu froze. He knew he should just forget about it. He knew he should just walk away, and let them gossip. He knew he shouldn’t care.

But he did. He cared what people thought. Atsumu leaned closer, standing at the edge of the corner. 

“He’s just… average, I guess.” A second voice chorused. “I don’t see why everyone always makes a big deal about him. I mean, look at how the game went today.” Atsumu flinched at the jab. He wanted to scream how he knew it was his fau

“True. God knows how it would’ve gone if someone else had been setting instead of that self-centered prick. Hey, I got a story about him I heard about in high school…” Atsumu backed away. He tried to shake the words off; but they remained glued to him, following him as he walked off.  _ Fuck, fuck fuck.  _

“It’s okay.” Atsumu said to himself. He laid his head against the wall. “I’m okay. Just- just words.” Tears dropped down his face. It confused him to end; why did this hurt as much as it did? He didn’t even know the people speaking about him. Words like these floated around Twitter and Instagram all the time. 

Maybe it was actually hearing them that got to him. Hearing confirmation that he was too weak, and not good enough for all the so-called hype he received. Atsumu wiped his brow, clutching the wall slightly. He forced himself to cover his sobs, trying to be as quiet as he could. 

He had to get out of here before he broke down even more. He walked out of the gym, texting the team that he went home early. When Kiyoomi inquired why, he simply texted back that he was feeling sick. Kiyoomi told him he would be home soon, to which Atsumu managed a small smile. 

He loved Kiyoomi so much. He wished he was enough. Kiyoomi deserved better than the likes of him. He took a deep breath, sliding his phone in his pocket as he grabbed his duffel bag. He exited the gym without looking back. 

Atsumu walked away, trying to ignore the hole in his chest. 

-

He failed, and it just made him more miserable. It hung over him like a cloud, one he couldn’t shake. 

So Atsumu supposed all he could do was train and work. After all, without volleyball, he was nothing. 

-

Bounce. Hit. 

The ball thudded against the wall. Atsumu caught it in his hands and pushed it up again. The same resounding thud. It hit his hands. He pushed up. Rinse and repeat.

It was dull and monotonous. Nothing exciting about the drill. Bounce hit, bounce hit. Over and over again. Atsumu sighed as he began to lose feeling in his arms. 

He’d been doing this for an hour. 

Ever since the conversation, Atsumu decided to train more and more. He went in longer runs, stayed in the gym well after practice has ended, and did his best to cut back on food intake. A routine pattern, he thought. It was just training.

A month had passed and he just felt worse. He hated the feeling of helplessness. He knew he couldn’t change anyone’s opinions on him.  _ Why does everyone think I’m such a bad person? _

Bounce. Hit. 

Atsumu thought he was decent, at least before that incident. He had changed since high school. He knew he wasn’t how he used to be.

But why couldn’t anyone else see it?

Bounce. Hit. 

His arms were shaking from being in the same position so long. Atsumu supposed he should take a break. But stopping would be admitting defeat, admitting he was too weak to do a simple set. He couldn’t do that. The only thing he had were his skills in volleyball.

_ Meager ones. He had to keep getting better.  _

Bounce. Hit.

Atsumu gritted his teeth as his knees started to wobble. He straightened his spine, forcing himself to remain focused. He had no choice but to keep playing, no matter how much his body screamed at him to rest. 

He pushed it down. He had to work, he had to focus. That was the only thing he could do. His phone buzzed across the court. It was likely Kiyoomi inquiring where he was. Atsumu ignored it, keeping his eyes firmly on the volleyball. 

Kiyoomi would be at the gym sooner or later to pick him up. He had to keep taking advantage of the time he had now. Atsumu exhaled softly as the ball hit his hands. It sent a tremor down his spine, causing him to sway unsteadily. 

Atsumu took a deep breath. He kept his tempo up. Bounce hit. Bounce hit. He repeated in his head, over and over again. 

It all felt so trivial. So useless. He had no idea why he was still trying. People would never change their feelings on him. He would always be the stuck up brat, the untouchable prick. Atsumu hit the ball a little harder, even though it sent shivers up his arm and caused his vision to swim. 

Sweat trickled down Atsumu’s forehead as he hit the ball again. Everything was starting to blur together. His head felt fuzzy, and his throat dry as a desert. Every instinct in him screamed at him to stop. But he couldn’t quit, not yet. 

Not until he got to the top. Not until he was the best. Not until he was no longer scorned, not until he was respected, not until he was  _ accepted--  _

Bounce. Hit.

Atsumu grunted at the pressure. He inhaled sharply as his arms burned. It felt as if someone was trying to rip off his limbs, slowly tearing them away from his body. He wanted to stop. He felt like he was going to throw up.  _ Focus, he had to focus, he couldn't take his eyes off of the ball, otherwise he would be a failure.  _

“I know what I’m doing.” Atsumu said out loud, his voice shaky as he set the ball once more. “I’m okay. This is okay. Ya aren’t falling apart, yer whole, yer not broken, yer  _ not—“  _

Atsumu’s breath caught in his throat as black spots swam in his vision, blocking out everything but the wall in front of him. He broke off into a coughing fit, struggling for a single breath. He felt his knees buckle and he collapsed to the gym floor. The ball landed next to him with a dull thud. He hardly felt the pain of the fall, his limbs weighted down as if lead were wrapped around them. 

_ I missed it. I failed.  _ Atsumu thought deliriously before darkness consumed his vision. 

-

“Atsumu. Atsumu.  _ Atsumu _ !” Atsumu‘s eyes flew open and he gasped for breath. The lights of the gun were blinding, the harsh glow causing black spots to dance in his vision. Kiyoomi was sitting next to him, shaking his shoulders. 

“Omi...” He croaked out. “I’m here.” The spiker sat back on his heels, his hand snaking down to grasp Atsumu’s back and help him sit up. 

“Atsumu, what the hell?” Kiyoomi snapped. “You were literally passed out on the floor of the gym. I thought you weren’t breathing, for God’s sake! What-what happened?”

Atsumu blinked at him, his lower lip trembling slightly. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out with a small, hurt sob. Kiyoomi didn’t hesitate to react, pulling him into a tight hug. Atsumu buried his face into his shoulder, another hiccuping sob escaping him. He clutched his boyfriend’s jacket tightly, gasping for air. 

Kiyoomi sat with him on the gym floor, rubbing his back and whispering reassurances. They fell on deaf ears, as Atsumu’s ears were ringing too much for him to even fathom acknowledging what he was saying. 

“I’m going to take you home, okay?” Kiyoomi whispered after a few more moments of the silent sobbing. “Can we go home?” Atsumu blinked up at him, rapidly wiping his eyes. He nodded once, preparing himself to stand back up. He tensed slightly, leaning on Kiyoomi. The spiker immediately stooped down and gathered him into his arms. Atsumu let out a yelp as Kiyoomi started carrying him bridal style toward the gym door. 

“Omi!” He managed out, shocked. He lightly batted his arm, trying in vain to free himself. Kiyoomi shook his head once.

“I found you blacked out on the gym floor. I’m carrying you to the car.” Atsumu sighed, but lacked the energy to protest further. He begrudgingly rested his head on his shoulder sighing slightly. Kiyoomi kissed his forehead as he walked out, still holding him tightly. 

Kiyoomi gently set him down in the passenger side of the car. Atsumu had to admit that it felt good to sit down and rest. His vision was still fuzzy, but at least his chest wasn’t constricting anymore. He leaned his head against the headrest of the chair. Kiyoomi started the car, and Atsumu shut his eyes. 

The drive was a mere ten minutes, but Atsumu still managed to get some sleep, albeit little of it. It seemed they were just pulling out of the gym parking lot, and when Atsumu opened his eyes, they were back at the apartment. 

“Hold on, I’ve got you.” Kiyoomi opened the side door of the car, helping Atsumu out. He immediately picked him back up, and Atsumu didn’t complain. He buried his face in Kiyoomi’s shoulder. Kiyoomi fumbled for the keys for a moment before unlocking the apartment door. Atsumu barely reacted, too exhausted to care. 

“Can you go take a shower?” Kiyoomi asked quietly. “I think you would feel better if you did.” Atsumu nodded again, slipping out of his grip. He stumbled toward the bathroom door, his legs shaking slightly. Kiyoomi was at his side, helping support him. 

_ Weak.  _ The thought was so sudden that Atsumu jolted, his back stiffening. He bit his lip and nudged Kiyoomi away. His boyfriend looked at him quizzically, concern flashing in his eyes. 

“I’m-- I’ll be okay, Omi-kun.” Atsumu stumbled out. He winced as his throat rasped, a sudden jolt of pain running through him. Kiyoomi pursed his lips, looking skeptical. He sighed, hanging his head. 

“Fine. But I’m going to set out some water and pain meds, and I want you to take it once you get out, okay?” Atsumu nodded. Kiyoomi stepped back, satisfied, and let Atsumu walk to the bathroom without help. He shut the door, leaning his head against the wall and shutting his eyes briefly. 

_ Weak. Passed out. Helpless.  _ The words swirled in his ears. Atsumu bit his lip to prevent an angry scream from escaping. He was tired of feeling like this. It wasn’t fair; what did he do to deserve this pain? 

High school. Snapping at people for no reason, just because he believed himself to be above them. His attitude on the court, lashing out for what he could now safely say were trivial and rather stupid matters. 

His passion is what brought him down. His pride caused his fall. It was funny how years later it was so obvious. If only he could go back in time and tell himself that the road he was setting himself on would be fraught with hurt and grief, that it wasn’t worth the small triumphs his attitude would bring in the moment. 

Atsumu used to be a live in the moment person. Now he was drawn to the past, and stuck there. He was slowly drowning, trapped behind the glass walls of an aquarium. He could scream for someone to help him, beg for another person to break the glass holding him captive, but they would just look on and walk away. 

Karma, they said. What he deserved, they said. Perhaps they were right. Perhaps Atsumu was such a horrible person that he deserved the hurt he was receiving. The guilt, the weight of his failures. 

He had nothing but a broken crown from his youth, and his scars were hidden away. He couldn’t get help, because no one would be there for him. 

He wasn’t even sure if Kiyoomi would be there in the end. He might deem him unworthy any second and walk away. It would be quite on par with the rest of his day.

The thoughts continued to circle his mind as Atsumu showered. They were dragging him down, further and faster than he could have anticipated. When he stepped out of the shower, he felt hollow. His mind was blank to all except the pain he was feeling.

Kiyoomi was waiting for him in their room. He had always set out a change of clothes for him, and looked up when he heard him step in. Atsumu tried to smile at him, failing miserably. He sucked in a sharp breath and looked away. 

He grabbed his clothes and changed quickly. The sweats felt nice, urging him to relax. But Atsumu was still tense.  _ Not enough. Not enough. Bad person.  _

Kiyoomi stood up and walked up behind him. Atsumu felt him wrap his arms around him. He sighed softly, leaning back as Kiyoomi nudged him over to the bed.

“Okay, Atsu.” Kiyoomi said once they settled down. “Are you going to explain what happened now?” Atsumu pursed his lips. Time froze as the dull ringing in his ears increased. He had to admit to what was happening, to the pain. 

He didn’t want to. He didn’t want Kiyoomi to find out how  _ bad _ he was feeling. He would laugh and walk away and Atsumu would be all alone again. He clenched his fists, his body starting to tremble. Kiyoomi pulled away slightly.

“Atsumu.” Kiyoomi said softly. “Talk to me, baby. I’m here for you.” Atsumu pulled his gaze up, his resolve wavering. He choked slightly, a fresh onslaught of tears burning at the edge of his eyes. Kiyoomi steadied him slightly, placing one hand on his shoulder.

Atsumu had many things he wanted to say. He wanted to hide all the pain he was in. He was so scared. It was an endless cycle, one he could not break out of.  _ Just tell him. _

_ Don’t tell him, it’s weak. _

_ He could help. _

_ He’ll laugh. _

_ He’ll stay. _

_ He’ll leave.  _

Atsumu whimpered slightly, pressing one hand over his ears, trying to shut out the voices. Kiyoomi tilted his head up slightly, his eyes distressed. “Atsumu, look again me, you’re safe—“

“I need you to lie to me, and tell me that I’m a good person.” Atsumu begged suddenly, cutting off Kiyoomi. He clutched Kiyoomi’s arm tightly, his trembling increasing by tenfold. “That I’m not a failure. That I’m worth something, that I’m  _ valuable.  _ That people like me, that I’m okay—“ 

“Atsumu.” Kiyoomi cut him off, horror bleeding into his voice. “What— where is this all coming from?” Atsumu blinked at him, his mouth dry. 

“I don’t know.” He said, his voice hoarse. “I think it’s from… high school? Yeah. High school, that sounds right. When I was such an awful person, I was mean to everyone for no reason, and now everyone hates me, and rightfully so—“ He babbled, tears starting to drip down his face.

“Atsumu, I don’t hate you.” Kiyoomi whispered. “It’s the opposite. I love you, please believe me.” Atsumu coughed as some of his sobs caught in his throat. He leaned into Kiyoomi, letting the black haired man hug him close.

“I want to believe ya.” Atsumu replied softly. “I want to know what yer saying is the truth. But I’m so tired of being burned.” His boyfriend was quiet, his hands wavering on his back. Atsumu felt anxiety rising up, bile in the back of his throat as his stomach churned. 

_ Oh god, he’s going to leave now.  _

“I wish I could say I fully understand.” Kiyoomi started slowly. Atsumu braced himself, preparing for the worst. “But I want— no, I  _ will _ help you. It’s… it’s hurting me to see you in this much pain. And I want to do whatever I can to ease the burden, to make your life as good as it can possibly be. Because you deserve it, Atsumu. You are worth the sun and the stars, and if I could give them to you, I would.” 

“Do ya really mean all that?” Atsumu asked, rubbing his eyes. The tears had subsided, the anxiety slowly dissolving as Kiyoomi spoke. The spiker nodded, leaning forward and kissing him gently. Atsumu leaned in, shutting his eyes and letting himself get lost with him.

_ He cares. He’s staying. He wants to help. I am loved. _

_ I am loved. _

“I do. I mean every single word I say to you. I want to be by your side through every up and down.” Kiyoomi said when they broke apart. “We’ll get you help, and I’ll walk with you through it all. Okay?”

“I would like that.” Atsumu said with a nod. He knew it would be hard. It would take a while to sort out what was wrong with him, let alone fix it. But somehow, with Kiyoomi by his side, it seemed… manageable.

And he genuinely believed he would be okay.

“Atsumu, I love you. Nothing will ever change that, okay?” Kiyoomi murmured, kissing his forehead. “Let me love you. Let me help you.” Atsumu nodded once, his heart rate starting to decrease. He let Kiyoomi guide him to the bed, laying him down and pulling the covers up. 

“You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.” Kiyoomi said as he laid down next to him. Atsumu gravitated into his arms, letting the spiker hold him. He felt safe and protected in the grip, the rest of the world fended off by his touch. 

It was safe here, it was okay. 

“Atsumu, I promise you’re a good person. I love you, and I don’t have to lie about it. You care about people, even if you don’t seem to think you do. Please believe me when I say you are one of the best of us.” Kiyoomi murmured, kissing his forehead again. Atsumu sighed, laying his head on his chest. 

“I love ya too Omi.” He murmured. 

“Just get some rest. I’ll be with you forever, I promise.” Kiyoomi whispered, pulling the blanket up and around them.

“Can I wear yer sweatshirt?” Atsumu asked sheepishly. Kiyoomi laughed softly, untangling himself from the blanket and walking over to his closet. He pulled down his high school one and brought it back over to Atsumu.

He pulled it on quickly, enjoying the warmth of the soft fabric. Kiyoomi slid back into bed next to him, pulling him to his chest again. Atsumu breathed deeply, inhaling the scent.

It smelled like home. It smelled like happiness. 

Atsumu exhaled softly, burying himself in Kiyoomi’s sweatshirt and resting his head on his chest. He shut his eyes, and for the first time in a very long time, went to sleep content, wrapped in the warmth of the person he loved and the person who loved him. 

Perhaps things would be okay. 

-

Miya Atsumu was anxious, but he was learning. Kiyoomi was there to help him, and he thought that perhaps life was starting to look a little brighter. 

He would get help. He would tell the others how he felt. He would make sure his life turned around.

-

Five years later, Atsumu could safely say that he was better. When he pulled on his Olympic uniform with  _ Sakusa  _ on the back, and kissing his husband before the game started, he could say that he was happy, and that life was okay. 

**Author's Note:**

> You’re welcome ❤️  
> Less angst than normal! 
> 
> Anyway yeah this has been nicknamed Interlude I by the betas and myself cause it’s a break between all the heavy angst 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! See you tomorrow!


End file.
